3.8.07

from the outside, looking in

I forgot to write one up yesterday. Apologies. Assuming you were keeping count, that is.

Today's entry is from Berkeley. On the corner of Durant Avenue (the street where the dorm that I've been living in over the summer is located) and Shattuck Avenue (which is one of the main streets of Berkeley), there is a bookstore called Pegagus. Not being content to be named after a mythical winged creature, it is one of those places where the staff leaves you alone and you can usually find one book that you've just been looking for (but not yet found). But, today's entry is not about Pegasus.

Next door to Pegasus, there is a yellowish-orange-walled building. It is sat between Pegasus and has an automobile dealership on its other side. There is no sign for this building. Nor is there an entrance--well, none that I have seen yet anyway. Instead, there are a few tall windows through which the insides of the building can be seen.

The inside is a large, dark room. The room is filled with 30 or so pool tables. Every evening I've walked past this building (and I walk past it 4-5 times a week), the tables are surrounded by people intent on the coloured balls in front of them. This being Berkeley, the crowd is ethnically-diverse though their ages appear to be in the younger side of 40 and they are mostly men.

Standing outside one of the windows, you realise that there's not much conversation going on. No one seems there to impress people. People don't even look up from their games. Instead, they wait. And, when it's their turn, they play.

It's not a bar. It doesn't look flash. It's always been busy, even on weekdays. And it's one of the (many) oddities of Berkeley that I've grown used to over the summer.

"So, ultimately, in order to understand nature it may be necessary to have a deeper understanding of mathematical relationships. But the real reason is that the subject is enjoyable, and although we humans cut nature up in different ways, and we have different courses in different departments, such compartmentalization is really artificial, and we should take our intellectual pleasures where we find them."